As Cheryl's Place Turns
by Red Witch
Summary: When Ron's girlfriend breaks up with him, the gang tries to cheer him up. By breaking a few laws.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has become so dramatic lately. Seriously. I'm continuing this mad plotline from my tiny mind. This story takes place the day after the events of Poker Night At Cheryl's Place. Go read that if you haven't to see if this makes any sense. It probably won't make any sense even if you do read it but go ahead anyway. **

**As Cheryl's Place Turns **

"What a night!" Ray said as he wore his pink and white dressing gown on the deck of the pool. "Poker nights are so crazy!"

Ray, Pam and Ron were having breakfast on the outside deck. "I don't think crazy is the proper word for what happened last night," Ron said. "I think the word you're looking for is psychotic."

"That does seem to describe the majority of our poker nights," Ray admitted.

"Good thing we have plenty of bearclaws, Bloody Mary's and coffee to perk us up," Pam agreed. "Having a fun poker night is so relaxing!"

"Are you **kidding?**" Ron asked. "I've stolen cars with less stress!"

"Ooh," Ray purred. "Ron has a past!"

"Yeah and if I hang around with you lot for too long, I won't have a **future!**" Ron told him. "I think I barely have a present!"

"Speaking of presents," Pam said as she ate a bearclaw. "Cyril went back to the Moneyworths to see what else he can get."

"Is that the name of the people next door?" Ray asked.

"Oh good," Ron sighed. "We know the names of the people we robbed and killed their dogs. It will make things less awkward at the arraignment."

"Technically that was Babou and the zebra," Ray said. "And the zebra was acting in self-defense."

"Anyway, from what I've heard," Pam went on. "The Moneyworths won't be back for at least four to six months. Either for tax purposes or until a president they actually like gets into office."

"Needless to say, it may be a while," Ray said. "We've got time."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ron said. "How much time we get from the judge."

"Relax Ron," Pam waved. "We've done this several times before."

"At least this time we didn't have to burn a dead assassin's body," Ray nodded. "And the apartment."

"Or bury a guy out in the desert," Pam added.

"Or have Krieger cut up the body in several pieces," Ray added. "And have us drop packages all over the city."

"Or…" Pam began.

"Stop!" Ron held up his hand. "I don't want to know anymore. Jesus. I've met mob guys that haven't killed as many people as you have!"

"Yeah," Pam sighed. "We get that a lot."

"Sometimes from actual mobsters," Ray admitted.

"Well as fun as it has been living in Casa De Crazy," Ron said. "I decided to take some action. I called my girlfriend Samantha last night and I told her I wanted to move in with her for a few weeks. Just until my place is fixed. She's coming over this morning."

"Oh, I like Samantha," Ray said.

"Me too," Pam said. "I mean you two don't have much in common. And honestly these past few weeks you saw more of Ms. Archer than her…"

_"Seriously?"_ Ray looked at Pam.

"What? Just keeping it real homeys!" Pam remarked.

"Hello?" A southern voice was heard.

"Out here, Samantha!" Ron called out and walked over. Samantha, a vivacious older woman walked out in a fetching red dress. "Good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too Ron," Samantha said. "Ron, did you know there's a zebra on the front lawn of this place?"

"Yeah but it's not a hallucination," Pam said. "We thought that too at first. It's just one of Cheryl's impulse buys."

"Hi Samantha," Ray waved.

"Hello," Samantha waved. "Well I got your message Ron…Finally."

"Hey it is good to see you," Ron said.

Samantha did a double take. "Why is there a pile of burnt furniture over there?"

"We had a party," Ray said. "Got a little bit out of hand."

"So, I see," Samantha said. "Good to finally see you Ron."

"Yeah I meant to call sooner," Ron said.

"It's been three weeks since you called me," Samantha said. "And five since we've had a date!"

"That long? _Really?_" Ron asked.

"Really," Samantha said. "I was starting to think I was being ghosted."

"Ghosts?" Krieger popped out of the bushes wearing headphones and carrying a device. "Did somebody say ghosts?"

"Krieger…" Ray groaned. "Are you skulking in bushes again?"

"Nooo…" Krieger gulped.

"Krieger we've **talked **about this," Ray groaned. "You can't just keep hiding in bushes and listening in with your devices. It's creepy."

"Although to be fair," Pam said. "Not half as creepy as some of his **other hobbies."**

"Can we talk?" Samantha asked Ron.

"Yeah I was thinking," Ron said. "That maybe I could move in with you for a while?"

"Really?" Samantha looked around. "You seem to be doing pretty fine here."

"It's not that great," Ron muttered in a low voice.

"I think it's great," Krieger said holding the device.

"Take the damn headphones off Krieger!" Pam snapped.

"You're living in a mansion with a pool and a zebra," Samantha said. "Looks pretty great to me."

"Looks are deceiving," Ron said. "The scenery isn't that great."

"Hello!" Cheryl walked out wearing nothing but a skimpy green bikini. She started to stretch. "Boy am I tired after that wild party last night!"

"Uh huh," Samantha gave Ron a look.

"Bad timing Carol," Ron groaned.

"Ron, we need to talk," Samantha sighed.

"Uh oh," Pam said. "This is **never** good."

"It never is," Ray agreed.

"Do you **mind?"** Ron snapped.

"No, we don't," Cheryl said.

"Fine whatever," Ron said. "Samantha and I don't have any secrets anyway."

"Ron, I think we should break up," Samantha said.

"What? Why?" Ron asked, clearly stunned.

"Well mostly because I'm moving to Atlanta," Samantha said. "My daughter's husband died."

"I didn't know that," Ron said.

"You would if you called more," Samantha said.

"So much for not having any secrets," Krieger quipped.

"I am so sorry," Ray said.

"Don't be," Samantha waved. "I never liked him. And the night he died he was leaving my daughter for his secretary. During a rainstorm. Just as he was walking out of the house a bolt of lightning hit a tree in the front yard. Landed right on top of that lying cheating bastard."

"Jesus!" Ray gasped.

"Yeah, every now and then he does come through," Pam remarked. "Kind of saved her money on a divorce lawyer doesn't it?"

"Funny my daughter or her children don't see it that way," Samantha sighed. "Long story short…"

"Too late," Cheryl quipped.

"I'm moving to Atlanta to live with my daughter," Samantha said.

"When were you going to tell me this?" Ron asked.

"She's telling you **now**," Cheryl said. "Get the denial out of your ears!"

"I thought things were going great between us," Ron said.

"Obviously you were wrong," Pam said.

"Do you **mind?**" Ron snapped at her.

"You were seeing more of your wife than your girlfriend these past weeks!" Pam pointed out. "That's never a good sign!"

"Uh huh," Samantha folded her arms.

"To be fair most of those times I didn't **want **to see her!" Ron shouted. "Samantha I can't believe this!"

"It can't be **that much** of a shock Ron," Samantha said. "We don't exactly have a lot in common. You're a Yankees fan for crying out loud!"

"I'll switch teams for you!" Ron said.

"Phrasing!" Ray called out. "Boom!"

"RAY!" Ron shouted.

"Hey! It's not my fault you threw that one right over the plate!" Ray pointed out.

Ron paused. "Point taken."

"I'm leaving for Atlanta tonight," Samantha said. "I've already called a realtor. And I just have to pack a few things. Honestly, I'm looking forward to living with my daughter and my grandchildren. And it will be good to see my old friends again."

"I guess I can't blame you for wanting to be with your family," Ron admitted.

"Plus, I heard about some of the things your wife did," Samantha said. "And I don't want to be on her hit list."

"Can't say I blame you for **that **either," Ron groaned.

"Also, I'm not exactly thrilled about the crowd you hang out with," Samantha added. "I mean…" She looked at the others.

"I'm not thrilled about them," Ron added. "Okay they're odder than a fish that drives a racecar. But they're not that bad."

"Oh yeah!" Cyril walked out carrying a box with several things inside. "I got notepaper. I got new luxury socks. I got some fancy pens. And I got enough stamps to last the office at least three months! Score! Stealing stuff from rich neighbors is great!"

"What?" Samantha did a double take.

"Bad timing Cyril," Ron groaned. "Real **bad timing!"**

"So what else is new?" Ray quipped.

"It is Cyril," Pam chuckled. "Bad timing is kind of his thing."

"Except when you're having sex with him," Cheryl pointed out. "He's really on the ball then."

"Oh yeah definitely," Pam said. "But any other time…"

"I'm going to go now…" Samantha backed away. "Before I get involved with the police…It was fun Ron. Just don't be surprised if I don't call you."

"I figured that," Ron groaned as Samantha left. He turned to them. "I hope you're happy!"

"Hey she was gonna dump you despite us," Pam pointed out. "We were just an extra excuse."

"You're right," Ron groaned. "It's just a shame. I thought we had something."

"You did," Cheryl went over to Ron and patted his back. "You ticked off Ms. Archer enough she went crazy and drove her car into your living room! That's a **big **something!"

"**Thank you**, Carol," Ron looked at her. "You always know what to say."

"Let's be real, Ron," Cyril put down the box. "You still have a thing for Ms. Archer. Samantha was just a rebound so you could get back at her."

"Listen to the expert," Ray pointed to Cyril. "If anybody knows about being used for a rebound…"

"You know…?" Cyril looked at Ray.

"You're right," Ron sighed. "It was never going to be a real thing with Samantha. I'm still hung up on Mallory. If only she wasn't such a violent lying maniac. Other than that, she's perfect."

"Been there," Pam sighed.

"Oh yeah," Cheryl sighed.

"Testify," Ray nodded.

"You said it brother," Krieger nodded. Everyone looked at him. "Hey you try dating a hologram sometime! It's not the dream you think it is! They are such divas!"

"I guess I was fooling myself in thinking I was over Mallory," Ron sighed.

"I have an idea," Pam said. "Let's all go for a ride. Get out of the house a bit."

"Ugh I don't wanna," Cheryl waved. "I still have a mini-glue hangover from last night."

"Fine you can stay home," Cyril snapped.

"I don't wanna do that either," Cheryl said.

"You are so hard to please," Ray looked at her. "You know that?"

"We'll figure something out," Pam said. "Just meet us outside in an hour."

"Do I want to know where we're going?" Ron asked.

"Well we don't know yet so…" Pam shrugged.

"Story of our lives," Cyril sighed.

About an hour later on a remote back road…

"Well this car is nice," Ron said as he drove a cream-colored Rolls Royce. "Fancy!"

"We thought you'd like it," Pam said. She was sitting in the front seat. Krieger and Cyril were in the back. "Nothing like a good drive in a fancy car to get rid of those breakup blues. Well that and breakup sex. Followed by a breakup brunch. Then some revenge sex. Then a revenge brunch…"

"We get it," Cyril sighed.

"Hey where's Carol and Ray?" Ron asked.

"Ray's staying back at the Moneyworth's to babysit Cheryl," Pam explained.

"Oh God I can only imagine the debauchery and insanity those two would get up to," Cyril groaned. "Mostly Cheryl but yeah Ray too."

"Don't forget the fires," Pam added. "Poor Ray."

Meanwhile…

"Oh my God!" Ray gasped. "I don't **believe** this!"

Both Ray and Cheryl were watching a large screen TV in a very fancy living room. They were dressed up in fine clothes with an assortment of scones, pastries and tea in front of them. "How could Lord Thrombleby cheat on Lady Alison like that?" Cheryl gasped. She was wearing a fancy pink dress, a feather boa and a diamond tiara.

"And with his own wife's lady's maid!" Ray was scandalized. He was wearing a tuxedo with a monocle. "And she's married!"

"I know!" Cheryl gasped. "To that poor sweet under butler **Dobson!"**

"He is too good for her," Ray sniffed.

"Whore!" Cheryl snapped.

"They're both whores!" Ray said pointing to the TV.

"You're right!" Cheryl nodded. "More tea?"

"Yes please," Ray grinned as Cheryl poured some tea.

Meanwhile…

"What do you mean this isn't _Carol's car?"_ Ron shouted as he drove. "You said you were going to borrow one of Carol's cars!"

"No!" Pam rolled her eyes. "I said I was gonna borrow **a** car. I didn't say it was from Cheryl. And the Moneyworths have some sweet rides in their garage. And the keys were right on the hook so…"

"You stole the **Moneyworths' Rolls Royce?"** Ron shouted.

"Technically **we **stole the Moneyworths' Rolls Royce," Pam pointed out. "You're driving remember?"

"I promised myself I wouldn't **do** this anymore!" Ron groaned. "For almost thirty years I kept the promise to never steal a car again and in thirty seconds you made me do it!"

"Technically it was a bit longer than thirty seconds," Krieger pointed out. "I mean if you count the time you pulled out of the driveway. "What? It was a long driveway!"

"It's still a nice car," Cyril said. "And we're on one of the back roads. As long as we drive safely, I'm sure we can put it back without any problems."

"I see a problem," Ron noticed. "This motorcycle guy behind us. He's coming up fast."

"Let him pass Ron," Cyril said.

"What?" Pam snapped. "Are you crazy?"

"Are you?" Cyril shot back. "Stupid question."

"Hey! It's not like I'm Cheryl," Pam said. "Or whoever she is today."

Meanwhile back at the Moneyworth's…

"Oh Lord Raymonton…" Cheryl twittered as she held a croquet mallet on the lawn. "It is a lovely day for a bout of croquet isn't it?"

"It tis Lady Tuntington," Ray said in a British Accent. "Such a genteel sport."

"I agree," Cheryl twittered as she swung her croquet mallet. "FORE!"

SMASH!

"Okay how many points do I get for smashing a window?" Cheryl asked. "Or do I get deducted points?"

"Well it wasn't one of **our **windows so…" Ray shrugged.

"Eh I'll just take a four," Cheryl waved. "After we play our croquet we must freshen up. The Duke and Duchess of Cornwall are coming. And you know they never pass up a chance to have roast game hen." She sauntered away in her own little world.

"Does she really **think**…?" Ray blinked. "Eh, it doesn't matter."

SMASH!

"Ooh those windows look expensive," Ray winced. "Well at least Ron is having a nice quiet time with the gang."

Meanwhile back with the rest of the gang…

"AAHHH!" Ron screamed as he ducked, the bullets barely missing him.

The biker was riding alongside them and shooting a gun at the car. Several bullets hit the car but not the passengers inside.

"ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" Pam screamed as she grabbed the wheel and swerved the car in a hard right into their assailant.

CRUNK!

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

CRUNCH!

"I think we hit him!" Cyril gasped. "Is he dead?"

Instinctively Ron brought the car to a stop. He saw some movement in his rear-view mirror. Without thinking he backed up hard and…

CRUNCH!

The gang got out of the car. "Well if we wasn't dead before…" Krieger said. "He certainly is now."

"Oh God…" Ron gasped.

"Damn Ron," Pam whistled at the mangled body. "That was straight up gangster!"

"That was straight up homicide!" Ron shouted.

"Uh hello?" Pam pointed to the bullet holes. "Did you miss the part where they guy was trying **to kill us?"**

"Dibs on his wallet!" Krieger went to the body.

"Why would he try to kill us?" Cyril shouted.

"Maybe he **knows** you people?" Ron groaned.

"That's possible," Krieger blinked. "This guy does look familiar."

"I recognize this guy!" Pam pointed. "He's one of those bikers we tangled with! Remember when they had the Long Water disk as well as Shapiro and Lana?"

"Oh yeah," Krieger realized. "Some of those guys did survive."

"You killed a bunch of **bikers?**" Ron shouted.

"Technically Archer killed a bunch of bikers," Krieger corrected. "Long story."

"Okay we gotta figure out a way to cover this up," Pam groaned.

"Cover it up? How? What if somebody reports the sounds of a gunshot?" Ron shouted.

"Well we are in California," Pam said. "A lot of people just filter it as background noise by now."

"Oh, God! Oh God! Oh God!" Cyril whimpered. "We killed a guy."

"Technically we killed **another** guy," Krieger said. "We have kind of killed a few people before."

"NOT HELPING KRIEGER!" Cyril shouted. "Not helping!"

"Aw Geeze," Ron groaned. "We gotta call the cops! What? It was self-defense, right?"

"Oh sure," Cyril snapped. "We tell the cops we killed a biker in self-defense in a stolen car. And that biker was trying to kill us because we killed a whole bunch of his friends!"

"When you put it like that," Krieger paused. "The police don't seem like a very good option, do they?"

"So, what do we do?" Ron shouted.

"Put him in the trunk," Pam said. "Throw the motorcycle in that ditch behind those bushes over there! Fast!"

"_What?"_ Ron gasped.

"I call motorcycle!" Cyril went to get rid of the motorcycle.

"I call dead guy!" Krieger grinned.

"I should call a lawyer," Ron groaned.

"Yeah you really don't want to get the law involved right now," Pam snickered as she went to help Cyril. "Help Krieger! Hurry up before somebody else gets on the road."

"This is not the ride I wanted!" Ron shouted as he went to help Krieger.

"Join the club!" Cyril shot back.

Meanwhile…

"Well," Ray sighed as he rode in the golf cart. "I didn't know there was a golf club down the street."

"HA HA HA!" Cheryl waved a club in one hand and drove with the other.

"And we're already banned from it," Ray sighed.

"Who cares?" Cheryl snapped. "This dump is restricted anyway!"

"It will be to us," Ray sighed.

"Ray, they wouldn't let you in anyway," Cheryl said. "Or at least one of your hands."

"You do have a point," Ray admitted.

"FORE!" Cheryl howled as she hit a random golf ball.

WHACK!

"OWWW!"

"Score!" Cheryl shouted. "I got in the hole after it bounced off that guy's head!"

"You might want to step on it," Ray warned. "Security is starting to catch up with us!"

"Relax!" Cheryl told him. "I know what I'm doing!"

"That'll be a first," Ray groaned.

Meanwhile back with the others…

"So…" Ron gulped as he rode in the front seat of the car. Pam was driving this time. "What are we doing?"

"Okay," Pam said. "Here's the plan. We're about twelve miles to the off ramp that leads to the desert. We drive out there. Go off road when we know nobody's around. Find a nice deserted spot. Bury the guy. And then come back home and pretend this never happened."

"Bury him with **what**?" Cyril snapped. "Our bare hands?"

"Good point," Pam said. "We need to get some shovels. And some lunch."

"I could eat," Krieger nodded.

"This is your _plan?_" Ron shouted. "Burying a guy out in the desert! **Great** plan!"

"Ron what do **you** care?" Krieger asked. "This isn't your first dead body you had to bury."

"There's a difference between dogs and people!" Ron shot back.

"I **am** talking about people," Krieger said. "Remember those two dead assassins that Ms. Archer killed?"

"_What?"_ Cyril did a double take.

"And we buried them under that neighbor's pool," Krieger added. "Before they poured the foundation in."

"_**WHAT?"**_ Cyril and Pam shouted.

"Oh yeah, that…" Ron groaned.

"Wait **what?"** Pam asked.

"It's kind of a long story," Ron sighed.

"You can tell it to us as we go down this road," Pam said. "There's a House Workshop in a mini mall there. And they have a Jill On The Case too."

"Is that where we stopped to have waffles after we buried that guy our toaster killed?" Cyril asked.

"WHAT?" Ron asked.

"I'm sorry," Cyril apologized. "Is that **not** as interesting as you killing and burying two assassins under a **pool?"**

"Point taken," Ron coughed. "And that was Mallory killing the assassins. And technically Sterling helped so…"

"Oh, now I **have **to hear this story," Pam said.

"Fine," Ron sighed. "If you tell me the story about this guy you killed."

"Technically our toaster killed him," Cyril grumbled. "God I wish I traded places with Ray."

Meanwhile…

"AAAHHHH!" Ray screamed. This time he was driving the cart as it practically flew over the hill. Several golfers ran from them.

"HIT THE DUMMY! WIN A COOKIE!" Cheryl laughed as she swung her golf club. "OUTLAW GOLF! WHOOO!"

"YOU LITTLE HOOLIGANS!" A well dressed older male golfer shouted as he watched from the sidelines. "YOU'RE WHAT'S WRONG WITH AMERICA! INDECENT FLOOZIES AND IMMORAL HOMOSEXUALS! YOU SHOULD ALL BURN IN HELL WHERE YOU BELONG!"

That was when Ray stopped the golf cart. Then turned it around so it faced the intolerant golfer.

"Uh oh…" The older golfer gulped.

"NEW TARGET CHERYL!" Ray shouted as he headed right for the golfer. "CHARGE!"

"HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!" Cheryl cackled as they chased the golfer.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" The golfer ran for his life.

Two other golfers watched the commotion. "Wow," One said. "That's the most exercise Henry has had in years."

Let's go back to the others, shall we?

The gang was eating lunch in a booth in the corner. "I tell ya," Pam said as she munched on a burger. "These are good burgers."

"How can you **eat?**" Ron groaned as he picked at a chicken salad.

"I take it that's a rhetorical question?" Cyril sighed as he ate a chicken club.

"It's no big deal," Krieger waved. "I even paid for our meal with the money I got from that guy's wallet. And we have enough left over to get the shovels."

"I think we should have gotten the shovels first," Cyril said.

"You can't plan on an empty stomach," Pam pointed out.

"Since when is **your stomach** ever empty?" Krieger asked.

"This is one of the **worst days** of my life…" Ron groaned.

"I'm guessing the Number One day is the one where you married Ms. Archer?" Pam snickered.

Ron paused. "No, but it's become embedded in the top five."

"Relax," Pam waved as she reached for a curly fry. "We'll finish our meal. Maybe have time for pie? Get the shovels. Drive to the desert. And the rest is easy peasy lemon squeezy."

"Pam," Ron hissed in a low voice. "It's already over 90 degrees out! You really want to keep a dead body in a trunk under those conditions?"

"So…" Pam blinked. "No on the pie?"

"Did you guys leave the keys in the car?" Cyril asked as he looked out the window.

"I don't know," Krieger blinked. "Why?"

VRRRROOOM!

The Rolls Royce zoomed away into the dust. "No reason…" Cyril blinked.

"Uh oh," Pam blinked.

"No! NO! NO! NO! NO!" Ron shouted as they all ran outside to watch the car disappear from sight.

"Somebody just stole the car!" Cyril gasped.

"With the dead body inside," Pam said. "Krieger you wiped out our fingerprints just before we went in, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah," Krieger said. "I do that every time I steal a car."

"I helped him," Ron said. "It's amazing the things that come back to you over the years."

"You wiped down the steering wheel?" Cyril blinked. "But you forgot the **keys** in the **car?"**

"Nobody's perfect!" Krieger snapped.

"I was still a little shaken okay?" Ron snapped.

"Well then," Pam brushed her hands together. "Problem solved. Who wants to go back into the restaurant for some pie?"

Cyril sighed. "I could eat."

"At least we saved money on shovels," Krieger said. "Don't need them now."

Ron snapped. "We do need a ride! How are we gonna get home?"

"Maybe we can steal another car?" Krieger joked. Everyone looked at him. "Too soon?"

Later that evening at Cheryl's Place…

"Welcome back," Ray called out to the gang. "What took you so long?"

"Long story," Cyril sighed. "Why are you dressed up in a tuxedo? And why is Cheryl asleep on the couch?"

"Long story," Ray said. Cheryl was sound asleep on the couch. "We had a busy day today."

"Couldn't have been as bad as the day **we had**!" Ron groaned as he sat down on a chair.

"Well you wanted to forget about Samantha," Pam pointed out.

"I did," Ron grumbled. "And now I want to forget about **today!"**

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Ray said.

"What happened?" Pam asked.

"It started out pretty good," Ray said. "Cheryl and I dressed up in the Moneyworths' clothes and had a tea party while watching Thornsby Manor on their big screen TV."

"Breaking and entering," Cyril sighed. "And theft. Go on."

"Then we played some croquet on the Moneyworths' lawn," Ray added. "Cheryl broke a couple windows."

"Mild vandalism," Cyril said.

"Then Cheryl decided to take her act on the road," Ray sighed. "Did you know there's a secret back entrance to an exclusive country club just down the road?"

"No, I didn't," Cyril said.

"Well they now know Cheryl lives here," Ray sighed. "We snuck onto the course and stole a golf cart…"

"Trespassing and more theft," Cyril sighed.

"Then Cheryl insisted on driving all over the links," Ray said. "Whacking people with golf balls. And sometimes her clubs."

"Assault…" Cyril groaned.

"Caused some damage to the greens," Ray sighed. "Ran over some begonias."

"More vandalism," Cyril added.

"The good news is apparently this golf club has dealt with Tunts before," Ray said. "Apparently a few years ago Cecil and Tiffy held a protest where Tiffy burned some begonias."

"It's a shame Cheryl doesn't like Tiffy," Pam remarked. "They have so much in common."

"The one thing they have the most in common is that they hate each other," Ray told her. "Anyway, we left after being banned and now the Tunt Corporation is paying off the golf course. Cheryl didn't care. So, we came home and made some Smores. Outdoors. She burned the Moneyworth's gazebo."

"And arson to round it out," Cyril sighed. "Still better than our day."

"What happened?" Ray asked.

"Well first we stole a Rolls Royce from the Moneyworth's garage," Cyril sighed.

"Grand theft auto," Ray remarked.

"Then we got attacked by one of those bikers that survived Archer's attack at their compound," Cyril went on. "You remember? When they took the Long Water disk and held Lana and Shapiro hostage? Anyway, there was a minor car/motorcycle chase and fight…"

"Speeding," Ray added.

"Next thing we knocked the biker over and ran over him with the Rolls," Cyril sighed.

"Vehicular homicide," Ray added.

"Our plan was to bury him in the desert," Cyril sighed.

"Conspiracy," Ray added. "Covering up a crime."

"But we stopped at this restaurant," Cyril added. "To have some lunch. Using the three hundred dollars we stole from the biker's wallet."

"Theft," Ray added.

"But then **somebody else** stole the car while we were in the restaurant," Cyril groaned. "So, we all got a cab and came home."

"Did Krieger forget to wipe off the fingerprints from the steering wheel?" Ray asked.

"No," Cyril said. "Ron helped him."

"Oh, then problem solved," Ray said.

"Not if the cops catch the criminals and they rat us out!" Ron snapped.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Krieger turned on the TV. "Guys…"

The sight of a familiar cream-colored Rolls Royce on fire was on the news. "You don't think…?" Cyril's jaw dropped.

"How many cream-colored Rolls are out there with holes in them?" Ron said.

"Well this LA," Pam paused. "Odds are…"

"We are now covering the scene of a horrific car fire on 7th and Sepulveda Boulevard," A male announcer was heard. "When police gave chase to a suspicious vehicle it suddenly exploded, instantly killing the driver."

"How does **that** happen?" Pam asked.

"The bullets must have just come close to the fuel line," Krieger paused. "But as the car kept driving, the heat of the engine and the movement of the car must have dislodged the bullet and…"

"Ka-boom," Ray whistled.

"_Ka-boom?"_ Cheryl woke up, clearly confused. "Is there a fire? Fire? Where's the fire?"

"On TV," Pam pointed.

"Oh yeah…" Cheryl giggled as she watched it. "Pretty fire. Burn! Burn! Burn! HA HA HA!"

"Well I think we're in the clear," Pam said cheerfully. "Even if we did leave any evidence behind, the fire will burn it all."

"I think I've committed more crimes with you lot this one week than all those years I ran a chop shop," Ron groaned.

"WHAT?" Everyone else said.

"Nothing," Ron gulped.


End file.
